End of All Days/Reign of The Zombies (Open)

[Marcus Drago]

Where was Marcus now? Some small town, he guessed. He had forgotten where he traveled to, or where he was going to travel to later. In fact, his mind was so far away from this world that he barely knew his reason for traveling.

It had been three whole months since Marcus was cursed. The mark still glimmered on his body like a fresh tattoo. When ever Marcus stared at it he would look with disgust. The thought that this small sign could be the major cause of his suffering was enough to make him puke. Sometimes he did, at other times he broke whatever was close to him in rage. Or, at least, that is what he use to do.

On his third month since the mark, Marcus had lost his will to fight. He would not lift a finger, nor perform magic for any activity. His moments of psychopathic killing had ended, and he became only a shell of his formal self. Three months without sleep would do that to a daemon.

Where was Marcus now? He sat at a family diner, watching others enjoy their lives; some with buddies and others with family. It always donned on him that his recent activities would lead to a lonely life. In fact, he was actually planning on always being alone. He found happy humans revolting, and his own daemon kind seemed even worse. Why would he ever want to spend his life with people he hated? Which was just about everyone in existence. Marcus was a bitter man, and he killed and enjoyed killing because of his bitterness. 

However, while he stared at a family eating their dinner, the mother chatting up the two children while the father scarfed down his food and the baby made a mess of his plate, Marcus felt his bitterness turn into regret. How would things have gone if he started a family? Would he have been happier?

Marcus cocked his head to the right as he noticed a small boy looking at his dark wings. It was night time now, so Marcus had decided to let loose his wings and make some excuse about how he works for a club. Many people questioned Marcus's wings. In fact, some came up to him with intent on taking a self photo with him. But when they noticed his dead cold eyes look upon him, they lost the courage to talk to him. Marcus gave that same stare to the little boy, but he did not deter as the others did. In fact, he only stared at Marcus more.

"Do you want to touch?" He finally asked the kid after the two exchanged stares. His wings outstretched to the boy who only came to his waist and nearly toppled him over. Marcus's wings were just as large as the kids body, maybe even bigger. He assumed that the boy was merely three or two, not yet old enough to understand the world and form his own opinion of it. The kid was young and an innocent, and Marcus could tell that no one had yet taught him how to avoid scary strangers.

The little boy touched Marcus wings softly, feeling his feathers as though its textures was very pleasing. Marcus opened his wings a little and the boy jumped back with fright. He smiled at the boy, calmly settling his feathers so that he could once again have them petted by this little kid. For once, Marcus was enjoying himself by watching this boy. However, his enjoyment ended quickly when the kid's mother called his name. The boy looked at Marcus once again, then ran to his mother. 

Marcus sighed and turned back to his dinner, taking a swig of some alcoholic beverage he ordered. By this time, he barely cared what he drunk or ate. He was only doing so to keep himself alive, but he had lost his sense for flavor long ago. Now, everything tasted stale in his mouth. At first, Marcus thought that this was another side effect of his curse, but he soon began to think that his taste loss was more psychological. 

As he took another drink, Marcus felt something that he had forgotten within his weeks of peaceful migration from town to town. What he felt was a sense that something was about to go wrong, something that would lead to his inevitable death coming a lot sooner.

Marcus looked around the diner and noticed a man banging on one of the establishments windows. His eyes were dead white, his skin a pale brown, and half of his neck was missing. When Marcus looked closely, he realized that he could see the man's bone. The man's fist found the window as his enemy while he continued to bang on it, probably hoping that it would break by his power. He was looking at everyone with an insatiable lust, and as he turned to view the kid who Marcus was just interacting with, he began to salivate on his clothing.

Is he the danger? Marcus wondered, but soon discovered that he was looking at the wrong anomaly. What he should have been staring at was what came behind him. Large lights that shined as the sun and formed two circles on the man's back. The circles of light then began to merge, and Marcus thought he could hear the distinct sound of a roaring motor come from the outside. 

There was a crash and the sound of glass breaking when the vehicle finally entered the building. Marcus had ran as far as he could from the car. Luckily for him he had slid into a spot where the incoming machine could not reach. There was smoke everywhere, and he could now hear the slight moans of people who were still alive. The car was still upright, badly damaged, and Marcus could tell that someone was still inside it. Marcus marveled at how the vehicle had gone completely through the building, and even crashed through the counter where a bartender and a few liquors once stood.

A man next to Marcus walked towards the car with anger in his heart. He banged on the window of the drivers seat, saying all sorts of profanities. Marcus stayed back and watched as the door slowly opened. A woman stepped out and looked at the man with the same white eyes the one who banged on the window had. That guy's innards and head was now one with the front of this woman's car. 

Everyone then looked at her with awe when they finally noticed all of her. Her entire body was bloody, and she was missing a right arm. Bones replaced her hands now, and red liquid was dripping from her body rapidly. What happened next shocked even Marcus.

The woman apparently had an appetite as hungrier than the man in the window. She drooled saliva when she looked at the one who was recently yelling at her. The man moved away, but he was not fast enough to avoid her sharpened fangs. In an instant she was on top of him, in another she was digging her teeth into his neck. The man was screaming, and blood was pouring out of him like water from a faucet. 

Marcus acted quickly, grabbing the woman by the throat and forcing her to the nearest wall. He held her down while someone else checked the man's pulse. The woman grabbed at him, trying to bite into him as she did the man. Marcus waited patiently for someone to tell him that the man was still alive. Instead, he heard a feminine voice cry out, "He's dead...!"

Marcus sighed at the news, then grabbed the woman he was holding by her forehead and slammed it into the wall. Over and over her head hit wood until she was nothing but a limp vessel. Marcus knew that he killed her, the redness of her head told him enough. He let loose his grip and watched her fall to the floor, a lifeless body like the one she had just made. 

"Don't just stand around..." Marcus said to the ones who had survived this mess. "Look for injured people and get the cops on the phone."

Before anyone followed his orders, a teenage boy shouted with a squeal for everyone to look at the outside world. At first, others were afraid to, but some followed the boy's advice with a look of curiosity. As a group gathered to look out into the world, one person made a feminine scream of pure horror, followed by more screams from others.

Marcus was now curious as to what these people were seeing, so he walked towards a window as well. What he saw next even terrified himself. What he witnessed was complete chaos, people being eaten, guns firing off in the night air, cars crashing into one another. There was a horde of cannibals feasting on the remains of every living thing in their sight. Some regular humans tried to fight against the cannibals, but no amount of hurtful blows was enough to cripple them. They seemed unstoppable, and very ravenous.

Another scream came from behind him as the man who was once deemed dead began to rise. It was in that moment that someone shouted out, "Zombie!" The man who now had white eyes looked at everyone around him, picking which one he was going to eat first. When he chose the nearest man towards him and took a bite out of his arm, everyone ran out of the building as fast as they could.

Marcus sighed and summoned every knife and fork within the near area. With his magic he sent the forks darting at the dead man's head. They forcefully penetrated his skull, and he shook rapidly as though he was electrocuted before he fell to the floor, motionless forever.

The man who had his arm bitten cried from the raging pain. He looked towards Marcus for salvation, but there was nothing he could do for him now. Marcus turned away, leaving the man there to soak in his own blood while Marcus walked into the new world of chaos.

[Benjamin Locke]

    He was in the middle of enjoying his egg whites next to white toast, jelly on the side, when it all went down. The entire world went to shit. Cars crashing through buildings, people losing their goddamn minds screaming about zombies, his egg whites and toast touching. Ye Gods have mercy!

    Wearing a powdered blue polo over his pale, lean torso, he was fairly unassuming people in appearance. Wide eyed, he stared from behind his wide, aviator prescription glasses at the revolting sight before him. His food had accidentally touched in all the commotion.

    Normally, he ordered white toast and egg whites, not touching. He would usually ask for some jelly on the side. Not because he would eat it – it was too sweet for him – but because he didn’t want people to think he was boring. But looking down at the abomination before him, he’d lost his appetite.

    He stood up and took his wallet out to pay when he finally looked up to see a zombie be impaled by the entirety of the metal utensils in the diner.

    “Sorcery!” He gasped touching the side of his brown, combed right hair, looking towards a man with wings, somewhat confused as to what the hell was going on. He cautiously but quickly followed the man, that top button of his polo feeling very tight all of a sudden.

    “Uh, um,” he gulped, walking after him, “Sir, do you know what’s going on?” He asked, more than a little fear in his voice, suspecting the winged man to be responsible for the sudden liveliness of the eating utensils and that he may have some idea about how life had suddenly turned into a second rate zombie flick.

((This time.))

[Marcus Drago]

As he thought, this town actually did go to shit. A street away from Marcus, a woman was getting gang eaten by three zombies. Four more were chasing a physically fit man down an alley. Traffic was beginning to back up as some were crashing into anything that was in their path, some objects being unmovable lamp posts. There were certainly more people on foot than in vehicles, and certainly more screams of terror than moans for brains. 

Marcus spread his wings, preparing to take off, but closed them abruptly when someone spoke. “Uh, um,” a frail voice said. Marcus turned around to see a man looking like one would call a nerd. The man looked as fragile as he sounded to Marcus. Inwardly, Marcus was already calculating how long this man would last in this world. “Sir, do you know what’s going on?”

Marcus shook his head. "Listen guy, I don't know whether you can see well in those large things," the daemon said as he pointed to the man's glasses. "But clearly this world is going to shit." Marcus heard the moans of a few zombies coming his way. He turned away from the nerd of a man to see a large herd growing around him. Dammit, Marcus said under his breath before forcefully grabbing the nerdy man by his arm.

"Time to fly," he would say to the man before spreading his wings and soaring into the air with his new acquaintance. They would both land on the roof of a large building with no way up or down. Marcus would lean over the edge to witness the chaos and carnage within the city. No street would be clean of blood, no corner would have someone who wasn't screaming. This town was going to shit indeed.  

[Benjamin Locke]

    The smallish man’s eyes darted about nervously, a small squeak escaping his mouth as the zombies began to close in. None in the ghoulish crowd were whole, every last one of them covered in a fatal wound or three.

    A formerly potbellied old man was now shuffling forward, his intestines tangled about his legs, hanging from the gaping hole in his stomach. To his side was a little girl who couldn’t have been a day older than six years old. She was missing so much of her neck that Ben could count the individual vertebrae that made up her spinal column and her dress was covered in what he could only assume was a mixture of arterial spray and feces.

    A shrill scream cut through the air when his arm was grabbed and he was pulled through the air. Ben finally stopped once they’d landed on the roof. He looked around, babbling with bewilderment as he processed that the winged man had flown them through the air somehow, as if his fake wings actually worked! But the smallish man had much more pressing concerns.

    Ben proceeded to pat his crotch in what he hoped was a discreet manner, visibly sighing with relief when he realized that he had not, in fact, soiled himself. But he’d come pretty darn close.

    Looking out at the town, his mouth hung ajar as he observed the state of anarchy things had broken down into. People were running screaming through the streets, cars smacking into them, buildings, and each other as desperate people tried to escape the undead outside, only to usually find that one of the members inside were infected themselves.

    A building nearby was ablaze. At it’s corner were two women in leopard print and heels. One was obviously infected, her top torn off revealing the mutilated scraps of flesh attached to her torso as she attempted to bite the other who managed to pull some type of latex sleeve over the head of her attacker.

    The uninfected woman screamed for help, shoving the zombie who, breaking a heel, fell to the ground.

    Meanwhile, Ben had spotted a cat in a nearby alley and, a moment later, he turned towards Marcus.

    “What are we going to do!?” He asked, beginning to panic. “My shoe!” Ben lamented, mourning the loafer he’d thrown at the alley cat a moment a go.

    Sniffling, Ben lifted one hand to adjust the heavy glasses which had begun to slide down his nose slightly. How they’d managed to stay on his face during all the commotion was a sorcery all it’s own.

[Marisa Hazel]

The Antitheist were in a sore shape indeed, if Marisa herself had to be out scouting for new members. Although they still had decent numbers, chaos had ensured after the betrayal of Ares Kaalratri. The name felt like venom in Marisa’s veins. She’d been training Ares herself, seeing only her power and not her weaknesses. She’d thought Ares would make a suitable replacement if Marisa met an early end. But the traitor had not shared the goals of the Antitheists. She hadn’t cared if the Gods were corrupted. She’d merely joined for power, and when she saw an opportunity, she had taken it.

In other words, she killed a God, but only to take his place.

The betrayal had shaken the ranks of the Antitheists, and Marisa held even more bitterness towards the Gods. She thought of all the ways she would kill Ares for deserting. But, to get to that day, she had to find powerful beings to support the cause.

Marisa was smart. She knew that ‘haunted’ places were usually the results of Supernaturals, and Supernaturals could be valuable allies. So when she’d heard about the scare a young couple had had in the woods, apparently being attacked by a zombie, she didn’t dismiss it like everyone else had. No, she would find the necromancer and recruit him.

Marisa had arrived at night, having driven, and decided to go rent a motel. It was while she was driving into the town that she found the chaos. Cars were crashed, buildings burned, and people were under attack. This did not bode well, as it meant the necromancer was out of control. She always hated when she had to kill the person she was trying to recruit. Spotting one of the cause of the disturbance, she put her foot on the gas and ran it over.

Marisa proceeded to pull the car over. There was too much chaos in the streets to continue hitting zombies without killing a few innocents. Plus, she didn’t want to scratch her car. It just got a new paintjob.

Getting out, Marisa picked up her Staff from the passenger seat, and clipped on a belt. It had guns, ammo, a katana… Everything she’d one day need when fighting the Gods once again.

Calmly, she began walking down the street, currently only holding the staff. It was sharper than a razor, than anything the simple minded humans had discovered really. As a zombie came charging at her, she swung it and took off his head in one clean blow. More creatures began showing up, but Marisa handled them without a sweat, never breaking her pace as she cleared the street.

[Carissa D. Lee]

Carissa slipped out of work finally, exhausted. She leaned against the building to gather herself before the journey home. Her purse sagged against her thigh, its weight a gentle reminder that she would soon be distracted with television, internet, and the promise of something warm to drink. Actually, while she thought about it, distraction through drink and internet sounded promising.

She tugged the purse to her front and dug her cell phone out. After fussing with how she stood a bit to get some service, she located a diner not far from where she was with internet access and late hours. Perfect. She exhaled a breath of relief and trudged forward from her spot, sticking to the main roads and the light posts.

Today had been difficult for Carissa. She had been employed with this business for a year and getting to know the proverbial ropes of the industry. She was well trained from school and comfortable with the education she could use, but getting actual experience was wholly different. She loved where she worked for certain, but some days tested her patience. To start, her boss- well one of the doctors- had disrespected the entire nursing staff with commentary about something irrelevant- she struggled to even recall what now. What had he been ticked about? It didn't matter, because after that, they had to deal with a patient and their general refusal to accept their medical advice. Again. Apparently this one was a regular. One patient's treatment seemed to be in a perpetual state of failure so they were miserable and...It felt like a long day, emotionally.

Carissa knew that this industry would have days like this and worse ones. Someday she'd like to work in the Cancer ward of a hospital. She would adjust, and had adjusted significantly since starting. Feeling already somewhat renewed, she bounded the corner a few blocks from the diner and was forced to come to an abrupt stop.

First, she heard the shuffling. She slowed to look around and see who could be approaching. That was when she heard the moaning and grunting. Unnerved, she began to inch away from whatever it could be. In the distance, she registered the sounds of screams and cries. Her stomach knotted and she felt her hands become clammy. What was going on? The shuffling grew louder and she turned, spotting a pale-figure rushing towards her. She felt her mouth drop in mixed horror and revulsion as it became clear that this person was running with a gaping neck wound and blood dripping from their mouth.

Carissa stammered out something, "do you need help?" or the like, but as they got closer and their speed progressively got faster she knew they were beyond help. This person was gone. She had no idea what she was looking at as it stumbled nearer. She knew she couldn't stay close and bolted. She counted herself as a fairly fast runner, although the time she didn't exactly know. Behind her, the shuffling got louder as if it were attempting to run, but it soon faded. She only got so far before spotting, thankfully not encountering, more of the strange people. She ducked past a small group and hustled into a building. She made her way for the stairs, hoping she she wouldn't encounter any along the way.

One stumbled into view. Carissa let out a scream and started to back up. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest. In her ears blood roared and drowned out all other sounds and for a few long seconds she stood absolutely frozen with fear. True terror pulsed through her body but it propelled her forward, the demand to survive filling her lungs and temporarily giving her the strength she needed to push past the person- the it?- whatever it was. She didn't look back.

She found herself facing the rooftop door. Panting, sweaty, she tried the handle. Luck had blessed her and she bolted out onto the rooftop, slamming the door behind her and stumbling backward, falling flat on her butt. She didn't know how long she sat there. Wide eyed and afraid, she slowly began to probe for any bites. Shaking hands methodically went over her entire body, searching. An eternity passed before, with a breath of relief, she could sink to the floor of the roof. No bites. How did she even know to look for bites? No scratches either.

Carissa pulled herself up and walked towards the edge of the building. She could make out figures not far from her who had also had the idea to get high. Below was a gruesome scene. She could hear, faintly, the sounds of sirens approaching the massacre. She felt shamed she was not down below helping- but as more people were attacked by...did she dare say hordes- it dawned on her that maybe helping after this was over would be more useful. Right?

She sank to knees and watched, torn between a sense of duty and desire to survive.

[Julian Clark]

To say that Julian was not having a pleasant day would be a massive understatement. A much more fitting description would be to say that his day had literally turned into Hell. Taking a moment to look at the reanimated corpse of a teeanged girl shuffling towards him, her lower jaw halfway hanging off her face while most of the flesh on her face had been clawed through to the bone, and her right eye hanging out of the socket, he concluded that this day was definitely Hell; even if Hell didn't exist.

Looking from the undead teenager, down to the dented metal baseball bat he had picked off of a corpse earlier, the elemental let out a soft sigh as he knew what he had to do. Forcefully kicking off of the ground with his right foot, he began to dash towards the young dead woman as her pace towards him increased as well. Upon reaching approximately three feet away from his target, Julian twisted his upper body to the right, tightened his grip on the baseball bat's handle, and leapt into the air. Midair, he swiftly twisted his body to correct itself while swinging out with the baseball bat, its increased momentum creating a disaster waiting to happen for the young undead girl.

Standing over the recently re-deceased body, blood and brain matter dripping from the bat which now had one more dent in it, Julian sighed once more. Tired of staying in the way of all these mindless undead cannibals, his body suddenly negated the effects of gravity and began to lift into the air, climbing to reach the roof of a nearby tall building. As he rose over the edge of the roof, he was startled by the sight of a woman appearing right before his eyes, and quickly willed himself to move backwards in midair. Staring at the woman closely, he realized that she wasn't one of the undead, and moved past her to land on the roof, where he sat down and said to himself, over the sounds of approaching sirens, "And this bullshit is why I knew I should've stayed at home. Fucking zombies."

[Marcus Drago]

In every chaos there is a shining light. 

A monkey once told Marcus that. Or was it a sleep mirage? Monkey seemed like a more possible term than mirage. Mirage's were just stupid, Monkey's giving wisdom were much more sound and just. Anyways, the monkey was right, for in the midst of all this chaos, there were people who were protecting others and fighting off these undead monsters. People were being the light! Those dumbasses. Marcus never did anything nice, and he never tried to save anyone!

So, if he was as cold as he wanted himself to believe, why was he now flying to save a woman in a leopard outfit from a zombie attack?

The the creature who was chasing the woman had fell on its heels. Marcus took advantage of this moment to swoop the woman into his arms and fly her into the air. At the sight of his wings and cold, dead eyes, she cried and squirmed as much as her body could allow her. She also slapped him three times before moving onto punches.

Not being able to take this woman's craziness anymore, Marcus dropped her on a building with two other people, another female and one male. Not paying attention to the other people, Marcus stared angrily at the woman he saved and yelled, "Dammit woman! I am trying to rescue your dumbass! Stop FUCKING hitting me!"

Obviously, she was frightened upon no return as she ran to the nearest regular looking man to hide behind. Marcus rolled his eyes and looked at the others.

"Are you all unharmed?" The daemon asked with as much sincerity as his no-care-attitude could give him.

Somewhere close, Marcus could hear more than one gunshot fire off. The bad thing about that was, so could the other undead. Many stopped their feeding to follow the noise, all looking incredibly exhausted and miserable. Marcus could swear that the undead did not really look like they wanted to be undead.

"Stay here and do nothing!" Marcus ordered everyone on the new building he was on. Before leaving, he would place his handgun on the roof where his feet were. He would then spread his dark black wings and fly off to where the fire fight was happening.

To Marcus's surprise, all this commotion was being caused by one woman. He wouldn't go near her once her saw her. He would instead call to her while flapping his wings in the air, "YOU THERE! STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING! YOU CAN'T KILL ALL OF THEM AND YOU'LL DIE BEFORE YOU DO!" 

[Benjamin Locke]

    Ben watched in amazement as Marcus took flight, speeding down to scoop the terrified hooker up in his arms and carry her to safety as if he were superman. The guy was a hero and here Ben was, pretending to be useless. Locke was starting to feel like an asshole and he did not like the feeling.

    Unsure of what to do, the scrawny man chewed on his upper lip, eyes wide as he watched two zombies, one male the other female, bearing down on two young boys. The older boy stood between the zombies and his little brother, the piece of rebar in his hands shaking wildly. Their cries were lost amid the cacophony of the dying city.

    Locke gritted his teeth as he watched. The alley was a dead end and the kids couldn’t escape. Ben knew what was going to happen next. The zombies, likely the former parents of the two boys, would tear the children to pieces.

    Before he knew it, Ben had vaulted over the edge of the rooftop, using his ability of flight only enough to avoid injury when he landed next to the older boy, putting himself between the children and the zombies.

    “Let me see that,” He said nicely, smiling at the kid who nodded as he took the piece of rebar from his hands. Locke turned back to the two zombies, giving the piece of rebar a slight twirl.

    Locke sprung forward, kicking the male in his chest with enough force to drive the zombie onto it’s back.

    The woman was on him almost immediately but Locke kept her at bay with the length of rebar. He smacked her in the temple with a backhand that sent the zombie staggering a few steps from the force of the blow which gave him enough time to carefully line up his next strike.

    Ben threw his weight into a blow that took the top half of her skull off. By then the male zombie had recovered and Locke shoved the redeceased woman’s corpse into his path. By the time the zombie had managed to untangle itself, it was met with the sight of Locke driving the piece of rebar through it’s eye socket with enough force to nail it to the alley wall.

    The entire incident had taken only seconds and afterward Ben turned back to the two kids. They were huddled together, terrified. He sighed and gathered up the children before flying them to a roof with several other competent looking people who seemed to have managed to avoid getting their faces eaten.

    Ben picked at his gore stained polo, standing there in his remaining loafer. He sat down with a sigh.

    “I see we all had the idea to get somewhere high,” Locke began, shifting his eyes among the group and wiping his hands on the khaki slacks he was wearing. “But it would probably be a good idea for us to come up with a more permanent solution to our obvious zombie problem.”

    Ben grimaced. He really hated breaking character.

[Marisa Hazel]

Zombie apocalypse or not, Marisa was having one hell of a good time. She spun ever so gracefully, her diamond gown flying around as if she were in a ballroom, all the while slicing through the undead like they were warm butter. The belt, although equipped with weapons, did look a little silly on top of the elegant gown, but that couldn’t be helped. At one point, she’d only worn the gown for special occasions, however, caution stirred by the betrayal of her best member got the better of her, and Marisa wore it whenever going somewhere that might be dangerous.

After all, it was practically invincible.

She shot her gun again, attracting more zombies. A pile of dead bodies was beginning to litter the streets, freed from their re-animation. Marisa wondered if some of the zombies were coming to her with the hopes of freedom. Whatever the reason, they quickly fell at her feet.

A voice called out to her, yelled at her really.
"YOU THERE! STOP WHAT YOU'RE DOING! YOU CAN'T KILL ALL OF THEM AND YOU'LL DIE BEFORE YOU DO!"

Marisa finished killing the nearest zombie, before looking towards the voice. Someone was flying overhead. Oh, happy days! He was either the one with the power to raise all these corpses, or another Supernatural. Either was good. A laugh escaped Marisa’s throat, as she turned back to kill some more of the zombies.

Suddenly, large wings erupted from her back, as she shifted her form to reflect that of an angels. The feathery white wings carried her high above the fray, where she flew towards the one who was concerned for her safety. A grin was on her face, despite the chaos.

“Have no fear for me, fellow Different One. I’ve killed many more on my own in worse situations. It’s the power of my Clan. Come and help me get rid of the zombies, and then we can hunt the source.”

[Carissa D. Lee]

Carissa squinted into the darkness below as it appeared to move. Was something climbing up? What was she supposed to do if something could CLIMB straight up a building? She lingered longer near the edge of the building to make out what it could be only to let out a startled gasp and stumble back a few steps. Wide-eyed and mouth slightly ajar, she stared at the flying man. He seemed to survey her too.

She backed away from him, minding her steps, watching as he...flew? Floated? Defied freaking gravity? Carissa kept a good fifteen feet between them and watched him with suspicious eyes. He muttered something incoherent. At the very least flying and, though unclear, talking, meant he wasn't whatever it was that tried to attack her before. She still couldn't come to the conclusion to consider zombies. It had to be some sort of postmortem rabies or maybe a mass panic or drugs or something rational. As for a flying boy...She had no rationalization for that one, and just hoped she was in some sort of delusion. In fact, until safety could be permanently established, that's how she was going to treat this situation. She was surviving a delusion.

At the thought of safety, she muttered, "Phone, I have a phone." It had been in her purse during all the excitement. Shaking, eyeing the flying-man and then her phone and then him, she fumbled to get any service, having to pace a few times to find anything. She swore under her breath and surrendered, stuffing her phone back into her purse and staring into the distance. Finally, she looked back at the man and spoke, "Are you okay?" 

Something suddenly flew overhead and was accompanied with yelling, lots of yelling. She jumped out of the way as whatever it was landed on the roof, still yelling. "Dammit woman! I am trying to rescue your dumbass! Stop FUCKING hitting me!" A woman wearing a startling leopard-print outfit booked it away from the creature- man?- and ducked behind the first man. She looked back at the newcomer with narrowed eyes. She couldn’t possibly be seeing this correctly- this man had wings? She tilted her head to the side, still scrutinizing, when he spoke again.

”Are you all unharmed?” She looked around to see how the others responded, before nodding herself. In the distance, gunshots rang out. Carissa assumed police or military action was occurring to rid the streets of whatever it was below. The winged-man spoke once more, or rather, directed them, ”Stay here and do nothing!” He didn’t have to tell Carissa twice, that was basically her plan. Although, as she looked at those around her, she considered searching the rooms in the building they stood atop for a first aid kit- any injuries could be treated that way. Winged-man flew away, and she turned to look at the other man that could fly. She opened and shut her mouth to ask a question, before shaking her head and crossing her arms. 

This was still just a delusion, she told herself, there was no way that there was a zombie outbreak and flying people were just...not flying, she just had no other explanation. That's all this was. But still, she eyed the man curiously. 

Another man appeared fairly quickly after the winged-man had flown off. This man also flew up to the building, carrying two children. Carissa’s thoughts spun and she frowned, looking from the new man, the first man, and off towards where the winged-man had gone. Was she imagining all this? People can’t fly, how was this happening? She winced at the headache forming and forced her attentions from the strange man to the children. He set them down, commenting, “I see we all had the idea to get somewhere high.” She nodded in acknowledgement but was otherwise silent. Her head hurt and she was becoming alarmingly aware of the responsibility she had to these people now. Maybe she should go get a first aid kit- at the very least that could help limit some of the dangers.

The children, settling somewhat on the roof, she approached. Carissa knelt in front of them and introduced herself to each of them, speaking softly. She explained she was a nurse and, with some gentle pushing, gave them a quick once-over. They appeared to be fine and uninjured to her great relief. Unfortunately they both had blood on their clothes and fearful expressions. Whose children were they? Where were their parents? She glanced passed them to the streets below and hoped, silently, they were not among the dead. “But it would probably be a good idea for us to come up with a more permanent solution to our obvious zombie problem,” she vaguely heard the newcomer saying.

Carissa winced at the word “zombie.” She moved from the children and watched below. They were heading off in the distance towards where the gunshots had been. She imagined there must be a new fight stirring and could only hope it would be over soon. She found herself saying aloud, “I think the police- or someone- is taking care of them.” She turned back and looked at the group, frowning. She had to ask what was plaguing her mind. 

“What are those really?" She asked, looking from the streets to the newcomer and the first man. "They aren't really zombies- they can't be- zombies aren't real..." She wished she sounded more confident. She wished she could assert without doubt that below were individuals with an outstandingly horrible case of rabies or a really bizarre mass-drugging. As she wished for this, she realized that these two wouldn't know anymore than she would. Unless they really were zombies, then she supposed two flying people would probably know what those monsters were called. Carissa looked back at the people below, the crowd significantly smaller now, and felt her throat go dry. "They just...can't be..." she murmured, her heart sinking into her stomach with the familiar sticky sensation of dread. She wasn't ready for this. 

But who would be? 

[Julian Clark]

Julian stared into the sky, trying to sort out his thoughts as he pretty much ignored whatever the woman who was on the roof before him might be doing. This whole situation was more than just a little too much for the young elemental to take in at once, especially with how life-threatening it was getting. While Julian might not be human himself, he had extremely limited contact with anything supernatural. Honestly, the only things he knew about this other world where what he had been taught by Kyrian, and some stuff he had researched himself; however, he wasn't sure whether or not any of that information was true. So, when confronted with zombies, he had to take a moment to collect his thoughts, since it was the first true supernatural experience he had experienced outside of Kyrian.

After thinking through the situation, and recollecting what all Kyrian had taught him, despite Kyrian having said that there was a lot that he didn't know regarding the supernatural world, Julian realized that Kyrian had told him about hearing of people who were able to re-animate the dead. However, from what Kyrian had said, none of the beings brought back to life were human, and it definitely was not on a scale as large as this. Thinking up to this point, Julian realized that there was probably somebody behind this, bringing people back to life, or maybe even a group of people working together to commit this horrible act.

It was just as the elemental reached this conclusion that he heard the woman speak out to him, distracting him from his thoughts by questioning whether or not he was okay. Just as he was about to answer her questioning, he heard the sounds of a female struggling drawing closer, then he heard a male's voice, clearly agitated, roar out "Dammit woman! I am trying to rescue your dumbass! Stop FUCKING hitting me!" Looking towards the source of this new commotion, Julian saw a man with feathery wings, who kept himself in the middle of the air with these wings, yelling at a woman dressed in leopard print clothing who had not been on the roof a few short seconds ago.

Already standing up, having started the process upon first hearing the commotion, he watched as the new female ran and hid behind him for some reason. Not even bothering with her, Julian continued to stare at this winged man as he questioned whether or not the three people on the roof were unharmed. Julian was too entranced by the man's wings to reply, and, before he would have even gotten the chance, a gunshot rang out and caught the winged man's attention. The winged being then told the three to stay on the roof, before flying off in the direction which the gunshot came from. Watching the direction in which the man flew off, Julian wondered what exactly the man was, and if he also thought that there might be someone controlling the zombies and making new ones.

Suddenly remembering the two females who were now on the roof with him, Julian looked behind him at the one wearing the leopard print clothing, noticing that she seemed very overwhelmed by whatever she had experienced in this shitfest and, not willing to deal with whatever she might be going through, Julian stepped away from 'guarding' her from the winged man who was no longer there.

Shifting his attention towards the first female, who had been on the roof before him, Julian noticed that she seemed to be quite confused, and almost looked as though she was trying to pretend that the situation around her wasn't happening. As he continued to watch her, he heard yet another male voice speak out, saying “I see we all had the idea to get somewhere high.” Turning to look at this other newcomer, Julian noticed that there was a man in an outfit as stained by gore as the plain white t he had on, who had two silent children with him. Knowing that there was no way that the three could have come on to the roof, and gotten to the edge of it without making a sound to alert the rest of them, Julian began to suspect that maybe this man was also capable of flying. The new man then continued to speak, saying, "But it would probably be a good idea for us to come up with a more permanent solution to our obvious zombie problem.”

Julian agreed with the male that something should definitely be done regarding this zombie infestation, and that it should be done with haste. The questionably dressed woman seemed to not really have any thoughts, simply staring at the three newcomers without any real sort of recognition, as though her mind was a million miles away. As for the other woman; she was staring down at whatever was happening on the ground before she replied, saying that she believed the police or someone was taking care of the zombies. Julian figured that she probably said that in response to the occasional gunshots that rang out around the area.

She then looked between this new man and Julian as she asked what seemed to have been bothering her for some time, “What are those really?" Not knowing what exactly she was referring to, Julian furrowed his brow in puzzlement, before she continued with, "They aren't really zombies- they can't be- zombies aren't real..."

Julian that this is probably the response that he would have had if he had never met Kyrian, and the frown that had come to his face held a trace of sympathy towards her situation. However, when confronted with this questioning, he replied to her quite simply. "They are, indeed, zombies. It's my first time seeing any, as well, but they fit every single thing ever said about zombies, and I had a friend who told me that zombies actually were a thing. However, it's not some kind of apocalypse thing, so don't worry too much..." The elemental moved close to where the troubled female was standing and looked down upon the mass of zombies that seemed to crowd the streets, extremely confused by the situation, before he continued speaking. "It's pretty much the zombies from old Taoist practices, or voodoo practitioners; a sort of so-called dark magic with people reanimating corpses and controlling them. So, every single zombie you see down there isn't infected, those bodies are actually corpses, since you can't reanimate the living.

Suddenly, the crease in Julian's brow deepened as he voiced the part that was troubling him the most, "However, I wonder just who is controlling this many zombies. This should be impossible for any one person. They would wind up killing themselves from over-exertion." He then looked towards the new man, having grown tired of speaking out what was in his head, and asked one question, "You have any thoughts on the matter?"

[Marcus Drago]

The woman turned back to Marcus and smiled. It wasn't a casual, nor flirtatious smile; but a cheerful one that a person would give when seeing a long forgotten funny relative. He didn't mind the smile, so much as that it was directed towards him. No one ever seemed so happy to see the daemon, not unless they were trying to kill him.

The woman with several weapons on her belt killed a few more of these animations, then laughed before growing two pure white wings. Using those powerful new limbs, she flew herself towards Marcus, were she greeted him with a grin. “Have no fear for me, fellow Different One," She said. "I’ve killed many more on my own in worse situations. It’s the power of my Clan. Come and help me get rid of the zombies, and then we can hunt the source.”

Marcus mulled her invitation over. "Okay, I'm game," he finally agreed. "As long as you help me save the innocents." Marcus moved his hands to a gathering of abandoned cars that were all crashed into each other. No doubt, this destruction happened during the beginning of this apocalypse. The cars could no longer be used for its former purposes, but Marcus could find other greater uses for it. As he lifted up his hand, he extended his magical energy to the cars. Quickly, and with little meditation, Marcus felt for every metal in every car that he focused on, and he took control of that metal to send four cars floating above his head. 

Down below, a couple of the dead were gathering around Marcus and the woman. "Watch out," the daemon warned as his fingers pointed to the gathering. The cars flew to where he pointed, and crushed zombies violently, splattering their blood all over the ground. The cars continued its motion, crashing into more creatures and other things that got in its way. The cars final stopped at the cross-section to another street, where a sturdy building finally stopped the vehicles. 

"Not a pretty way, but it definitely got the job done." Marcus flew down and balanced himself on a lamppost, and looked at the morphing woman. "Let's see if you can top that."

[Benjamin Locke]

    Marcus all but forgotten, Ben watched warily as Carrissa approached and began to examine the two boys he’d brought up to the roof. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, it’s just he didn’t exactly believe that she was a trustworthy person, being a complete stranger and all.

    If the boys had been Locke’s kids, he wouldn’t have let her near them, not so quickly anyways. But as things stood, he’d barely cared enough to drop his character and save them. Bad touch away, stranger danger, the man thought to himself as he looked around at the others on the roof.

    Ben pretended to ignore Carissa’s wince at his use of the term zombie though inwardly he rolled his eyes. Anyone who’d ever seen a zombie movie before could obviously tell that’s what they were. But he could see that she was having a little difficult accepting the reality of things, so he didn’t say that.

    In response to her statement that the police or someone was taking care of the zombies, he said “Yup. That someone who’s gonna be taking care of them is us. I think this-“ Locke gestured out toward what was left of the city. “Is just a bit above the paygrade of the local deputies, don’t you think?”

    The other man seemed to have the right idea, obviously no normal human. He seemed to know a bit about zombies and Locke could immediately tell that Julian would be useful. At the very least, more useful than the hooker and the mangy brats he’d picked up. He asked for Locke’s thoughts on the matter.

    “I believe you are correct. Someone raised these shambling corpses and is still raising them. A novice necromancer would be incapable of this, perhaps, but a particularly gifted or skilled user could likely manage.”

    Locke looked out over the city, halfheartedly tossing a loose brick and a nearby alley cat as he thought.

    “But the dead do not seem to be moving with any particular purpose in mind other than to make more bodies for the horde. I would suggest that perhaps the one behind it all has lost any control they may have had in the beginning, but anything is possible, I s’pose.”

    Massaging his stiff neck muscles, Ben let out a slight sigh, running one hand across his face. As he did so, his appearance changed into that of a young man with tan skin, short, kinky black hair, and and athletic build.

    “Someone is going down for this. Too many dead humans for the powers that be to ignore.”

[Marisa Hazel]

Marisa relished the feeling of flying, even though she wasn’t used to it. It was much harder to stay in one spot than it looked. The Forsaken frowned at Marcus’ reply, his language was so… different. Had Marisa been out of society too long? Was she beginning to lose grasp on the modern vernacular?

“Why of course the innocents will be saved. It is the purpose of my people, to free the innocent from all dangers. I do look forward to this… game, as you call it.” She flapped her wings a few more times, trying to not plummet from the sky. She watched as Marcus picked up cars with his power, using them to crush another hoard before showing his acrobatic prowess by balancing on the street light. Marisa laughed, he was a good candidate.

“Unfortunately, my people have lost access to most magics in exchange for different power. A fancy show of how well you can use what any weakling may use as a weapon means nothing to us. We fight with our strength, so show me what you possess, young man.”

Marisa let herself fall, slowing down at the last minute, before removing the foreign wings from her body. She placed her weapon on her back, and ran to the nearest undead. Their decomposing bodies made them so much easier to break, and Marisa dug her fingernails into the ruined flesh of his neck, before grabbing the spine, and using all her force to snap it and rip it in two. This would have been much harder with a living person, but it was a satisfying feeling. She took the head and threw it at an approaching zombie, a middle-aged man who had the leftover marks on his neck from his death. Unstrapping her weapon, she charged forward and took pleasure in slicing off his arms and legs before driving it through his skull.

To be honest, Marisa was aching to change into a bear or another animal, and tear them all apart until her mouth and paws were stained with blood. But that would mean discarding her dress and weapons, and would surely be a foolish thing.